Pelle the Conqueror, Martin Andersen Nexø [best fantasy books to read .TXT] 📗

that nothing could be done with them. She was unwilling to tell Pelle, because he had once advised her against it; but all at once she gave in completely. “You mustn’t laugh at me!” she sobbed, hiding her face on his shoulder.

Pelle attempted to comfort her, but it was not so easily done. It was not the one misfortune but the whole fiasco that had upset her so; she had promised herself so much from her great plan. “It isn’t all lost yet,” he said to comfort her. “We’ll just keep on and you’ll see it’ll be all right.”

Ellen was not to be hoodwinked, however. “You know you don’t mean it,” she said angrily. “You only say it because of me! And the secondhand dealer sent up word this morning that if he didn’t soon get the rest of his money, he’d take all the furniture back again.”

“Then let him take it, and that’ll be an end of the matter.”

“But then we shall lose all that we’ve paid!” she exclaimed quickly, drying her eyes.

Pelle shrugged his shoulders. “That can’t be helped.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to get the things sold little by little? We only owe a third on them.”

“We can’t do that; it’s punishable. We’ve got a contract for the hire of the furniture, and as long as we owe a farthing on it, it’s his. But we’re well and strong all of us; what does it matter?”

“That’s true enough,” answered Ellen, trying to smile, “but the stronger we are, the more food we need.”

A girl came running up with a pair of boots that were to be soled as quickly as possible. They were “Queen Theresa’s,” and she was going to wear them in the evening. “That’ll bring us in a few pence!” said Ellen, brightening. “I’ll help you to get them done quickly.”

They seated themselves one on each side of the counter, and set to work. It reminded them of the early days of their married life. Now and then they stopped to laugh, when Ellen had forgotten some knack. In an hour and a half the boots were ready, and Pelle went himself with them to make sure of the money.

“You’ll most likely find her in the tavern,” said Ellen. “The artistes generally have their dinner at this hour, and she’s probably there.”

It was a busy time in the artistes’ restaurant. At the small tables sat bony, close-cropped men of a peculiar rubicund type, having dinner with some girl or other from the neighborhood. They were acrobats, clowns, and wrestlers, people of a homogeneous type, dressed in loud checks, with enormous cuffs and boots with almost armor-plated toes. They chewed well and looked up stupidly at the call of the girls; they wore a hard, brutal mask for a face, and big diamond rings on their fingers. Some of them had such a powerful lower jaw that they looked as if they had developed it for the purpose of taking blows in a boxing-match. In the adjoining room some elegant young men were playing billiards while they secretly kept an eye on what was going on at the tables. They had curls on their forehead, and patent leather shoes.

“Queen Theresa” was not there, so Pelle went to Dannebrog Street, where she lived, but found she was not at home. He had to hand in the boots to a neighbor, and go back empty-handed.

Well, it was no more than might have been expected. When you needed a thing most, chance played with you as a cat played with a mouse. Pelle was not nearly so cheerful as he appeared to be when he faced Ellen. The reality was beginning to affect him. He went out to Morten, but without any faith in the result; Morten had many uses for what he earned.

“You’ve just come at the right moment!” said Morten, waving two notes in the air. “I’ve just had twenty krones sent me from The Working Man, and we can divide them. It’s the first money I’ve got from that quarter, so of course I’ve spat upon it three times.”

“Then they’ve found their way to you, after all!” exclaimed Pelle joyfully.

Morten laughed. “I got tired of seeing my work repeated in their paper,” he said, “when they’ll have nothing to do with me up there; and I went up to them and drew their attention to the paragraph about piracy. You should have seen their expression! Goodness knows it’s not pleasant to have to earn your bread on wretchedness, so to speak, but it’s still more painful when afterward you have to beg for your hard-earned pence. You mustn’t think I should do it either under other circumstances; I’d sooner starve; but at any rate I won’t be sweated, by my own side! It’s a long time since you were here.”

“I’ve been so busy. How’s Johanna?” The last words were spoken in a whisper.

“Not well just now; she’s keeping her bed. She’s always asking after you.”

“I’ve been very busy lately, and unfortunately I can’t find out anything about her. Is she just as cross?”

“When she’s in a bad temper she lets me understand that she could easily help to put us on the right track if she wanted to. I think it amuses her to see us fooled.”

“A child can’t be so knowing!”

“Don’t be so sure of that! Remember she’s not a child; her experiences have been too terrible. I have an idea that she hates me and only meditates on the mischief she can do me. You can’t imagine how spiteful she can be; it’s as though the exhalations from down there had turned to poison in her. If anyone comes here that she notices I like, she reviles them as soon as they’re gone, says some poisonous thing about them in order to wound me. You’re the only one she spares, so I think there must be some secret link between you. Try to press her on the subject once more.”

They went in to her.